There was no peace within the palace either.

Yuepin opened her eyes. Weak as she was, she braced herself against the ground and sat up. She waited a moment until her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. She did not know when she had lost consciousness.

“Someone come.”

Dead silence. Yuepin was not surprised. This was how the palace was. Whoever held power commanded the winds and clouds. Whoever had fallen from grace — if the others refrained from kicking them while they were down, they were already of unusually pure character.

She reached out a hand. Her fingertips were blurry and indistinct. Yuepin gave a soft laugh and, summoning her strength, pushed herself to standing. She felt her way to one side, touched the wall, and felt the faintest sense of relief. She moved forward and touched the door. She pulled — it would not open, exactly as she had expected.

She stood still for a moment, then turned and made her way toward the center of the room. Based on the typical layout of a palace chamber, there ought to be an octagonal table ahead of her. She was a little thirsty.

She found something, as expected. But the height was wrong for an octagonal table…

Wait.

Something suddenly came to her. On pure instinct, she stumbled back several steps in rapid succession, pressing herself against the door when she had no further to retreat, and turned herself around — as though seeking whatever small sense of safety she could find by clinging to it. This place, this place was…

How could it be!

And yet, how could it not?

Yuepin closed her eyes. Her already weak body slid down along the door and crumpled to the floor. In this palace, there had only ever been things one lacked the imagination for. That old woman had spent her entire life in these walls. Of course she knew precisely where to press to find the killing point.

She was not afraid. Yuepin told herself that — she was not afraid in the slightest. They had died by her hand while they were alive, and now that they were dead they had no right to make anything of it!

A faceless visage suddenly forced its way into her mind. Yuepin let out a smothered, jagged shriek. That child — that was her child. No, no, no. It was not. She would never have given birth to something like that. She would not. She had ordered everything to be done by others and had never laid a hand on any of it herself. Everything that could possibly hurt that child she had kept carefully, fully away from harm. So why had it still happened? Why!

She wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled herself inward, pressing hard against the door as if only this could give her even a fragment of security.

The wind rose. Leaves rustled softly against each other. The sound drifted in as though it came from far outside, and yet seemed also as though it were somehow within the room. Yuepin covered her ears and buried her face against her knees. She did not want to hear it. And yet she could not stop herself from straining to catch every last whisper of that faint movement.

The longer she listened, the more it seemed to be right there — within reach. Right there, directly behind her. Right there, brushing against her ear.

She curled into herself. Low, muffled sobs spilled from her throat. She flailed her hands as if to drive away every ghost and spirit that might exist there — but they remained. They were entangling themselves around her, climbing onto her…

“Aah! Get away, get away!”

Yuepin screamed and fled, and without noticing, found herself in the middle of the room again. She collided with the structure at waist height. One touch of her hand, and her screams grew more terrible still. She fell and scrambled backward on her hands and feet, putting as much distance from it as she could.

Outside, the Empress Dowager stood in plain white mourning robes, expression empty, listening to the sounds coming from within. And she is already afraid? Far too soon. What she had taken from others amounted to so much more than what she had received tonight. All of it was debt. Every day she lived, she paid a portion of it back — until the day she died.

“Keep close watch. Do not let her die easily. It is my wish that she outlives me.”

“Yes, your servant has already summoned an imperial physician to remain on call at all times.”

The Empress Dowager gave a faint nod and turned to leave. After stepping out of the hall she looked back once, “Remove that plaque. It is an eyesore.”

“Yes.”

The breath of anger she could not expel no matter what she tried — the Empress Dowager pressed her hand lightly against her chest. “Has someone been arranged to attend to the Crown Prince?”

“Yes, your servant personally selected a number of steady, reliable attendants to be sent over.”

“Steady alone is not enough — they must be capable as well. Instruct them thoroughly. Any among them who harbor improper intentions — your mistress is watching. The Crown Prince is young, and if anyone bears him ill will, it will not only be that one person I deal with.”

“Yes.”

“And also…” The Empress Dowager suddenly fell quiet, and her footsteps paused as well. After a long moment of deep deliberation, she said: “Tomorrow, summon Hua Zhi to the palace. Go yourself.”

“Yes.”

The Empress Dowager’s summons came without warning, and the senior maids nearly instinctively felt their hearts suspend in mid-air. The wound had not even healed yet, and she was being called back to the palace?

But Hua Zhi had not a trace of hesitation. The palace was now full of her own people. She no longer needed to enter it every time as though she were saying her last farewells to her family.

“Please wait a moment, Yuxiang. Allow this humble daughter to change into appropriate attire.”

Yuxiang naturally had no objection. She took a nearby seat, received the tea that Nian Qiu offered with perfect grace, and her manner put the maids somewhat more at ease.

Hua Zhi made her way unimpeded to the Empress Dowager’s palace, Fu Shou Palace, and seeing that the Empress Dowager was already waiting for her, she hurried forward to pay her respects.

The Empress Dowager waved a hand. “None of those formalities. Come sit with me.”

Hua Zhi, even when performing her composure most convincingly, had never truly felt the innate reverence for imperial authority that was second nature to those born into this world. To others, the Empress Dowager was a figure of such exalted nobility that to look too long was an offense. But to Hua Zhi, she was first and foremost Yanxi’s grandmother, and toward a boyfriend’s grandmother one ought to show respect — but not worship her as though she were a deity on an altar.

And so she sat down.

The Empress Dowager found this young woman composed and forthright in a way that was genuinely pleasing to behold. Even with the pain of losing her son still fresh before her eyes, a faint smile found its way onto her face. “Is everything settled at home?”

“Yes. They do not require me to spend much effort on their behalf.”

“With you outside shielding them from the wind and rain, they live quite comfortably.” The Empress Dowager slowly turned the jade ring on her finger. “My family and the Hua Family go back a long way. I have always wished the Hua Family well. Yet a person, sitting in a certain position, is constrained by that position — governed by it without recourse, in ways that determine what one may and may not do. In that regard, a person of no official standing is freer by far.”

“The Hua Family has received much care from you.”

“It has been limited — I know that in my heart.” The Empress Dowager looked at the young woman whose expression remained entirely unreadable. “I know you are anxious to bring your family back. But this cannot be rushed. You must have a clear reckoning in your mind. The Crown Prince is young. You are the person he is most close to and trusts most deeply, and the Grand Preceptor personally appointed by the late Emperor. It is precisely because of this that you must be all the more careful and measured. Do not give anyone a handle to use against you. And even more so, do not allow…”

Hua Zhi rose and offered a bow in thanks for the Empress Dowager’s counsel. She understood the meaning of those unfinished words. It was one thing if others said something. But if after Little Six grew up and his thoughts multiplied with the years, he looked back on all of this, there would be endless points of vulnerability to find.

This was the difference between a sovereign and a prince.

“That you understand is well enough. What I fear, is that you would become too anxious. When your loved ones are involved, even the most clear-headed person may find themselves making mistakes.”

“Yes. This humble daughter will wait for the right moment.” Hua Zhi lowered her head, a small stretch of pale neck visible. “You need not worry. I value the bond of mutual reliance I share with the Crown Prince. I bear no intention of exploiting him. I will find the right measure, so that all of us may fare well.”

“I have been worrying needlessly.” The Empress Dowager let go of the last of her concerns entirely. “There is one thing I must ask you. Do you know when Yanxi will return?”

“It should be a few days yet. I have sent someone to make contact with him. He should be able to make it back in time for the first memorial rite.”

“He must make it back in time.”